As The Balance Tilts
by Kage NoTenshi
Summary: This is for Brood Mayran's Weird couple contest. Pairing Shadi/Cindia *second-place winner*


This is for Brood Mayran's "Queer Couples" contest. The pairing was not my original idea; my good friend Pikazoom came up with it (to counter my personal favorite pairing of Malik/Anzu), but has given me permission to actually write a story for it. I used the events in the manga and the original Japanese anime (un-dubbed), so the events are a mix. Also, I only have rough translations, so I took some liberty with the dialogue. The rating is for blood. This is my first romance.

Pairing: Cindia/Shadi

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, nope. In addition, I always use the Japanese names; so since this is for a contest, I'm putting in a name guide.

Maximillion Pegasus - Pegasus J. Crawford (still often referred to as Pegasus)

Cecilia Pegasus - Cindia Crawford

Shadi - Shadi 

Sennen Ankh/Tauk - Millennium Key/Necklace

As the Balance Tilts

The solemn, black-clad mourners stood around the grave, emotionless as the chasm swallowed up the coffin. Soon the only sound was the soft rustling rain of dirt as it covered up the black lid. An unseen bird twittered nearby, unaware of the sorrow at hand. All waited respectfully until the mound of earth was complete in front of the polished headstone. Then, one by one, they drifted off and out through the wrought iron gates, leaving behind the traditional tokens of flowers.

Only one soul lingered.

He was a youth of not yet twenty, and he looked rather uncomfortable in his formal suit and polished, stiff shoes. Yet the misery that shadowed his face was much more than annoyance over petty physical irritations. His face remained dry; this was a grief too intense for tears. His soft brown eyes were dulled with pain as he knelt on the ground and slowly pushed away a few bouquets. He withdrew from under his jacket a small bundle of paintbrushes, tied with a sky blue ribbon. Setting it on the space he had cleared, he whispered, "For you, Beloved. Remember all the portraits I painted of you? I'd-" He choked slightly "-I'd trade them all to have the real you back once again." Gently, he ran his hand across the tombstone, his fingers brushing over the name: Cindia Crawford. The breeze ruffled his gleaming lavender hair, and the sun glinted coldly on the wedding band around the fourth finger of his left hand.

§

I have a rare appreciation for solitude. I was never fond of the world outside and instead preferred to remain in my hidden caverns. They were comfortable and secure, full of quiet and undiscovered by the inconveniences of modernization. I am not exactly charismatic, either, so it was a blessing to live unbothered. I had a few servants, also devout to the forgotten Egyptian deities. Every day was the same, ordered and peaceful-precisely how I liked it. 

And then one day it turned upside down.

It started like all pivotal days begin: like any other day. I was standing before the carved stone of seven niches. It was engraved like a sarcophagus lid, with spaces for the sacred Sennen Items. It was my occupation to guard them, but many of them were scattered over the earth before I came to the position. That was good too, in a way, because they were less likely to be gathered together and used for evil. Now, only the eye, the ring, and the scales remained in their places. The ankh hung about my neck, and the tauk and rod were under the eyes of another guardian. The puzzle, however, was lost somewhere in time. 

As much as this place held my heart, I could not ignore the fact that it was slowly deteriorating, crumbling into ancient dust. The passages would survive many more centuries, but they no longer held the splendor they once did. I remembered how they had once been with the pharaoh's majesty gathered in their mysterious embrace. 

A tremor interrupted my thoughts. It was not an earthly disturbance, but one of the dark lands. Somewhere, a bodiless voice cried out in anguish, pleading and reaching out towards anything it could find. It was a soul, I could tell, dragged prematurely to Duat, the underworld. For an instant, I thought I heard the barking laughter of Seth, and Sekhmet roaring in hilarity with him. I held little love for the god and goddess of destruction, but to interfere with the doings of fate…

Hearing the voices of the dead was not something that happened often, but every now and then final cries, sighs, or regrets reached my ears. No one else ever heard them, but they haunted me. Fortunately, they were only fleeting fragments of voices, coming quickly with a chill and then dissolving into silence. 

Suddenly, I sensed an alteration in the tapestry of human lives. It spread like ripples in water, a harbinger of chaos and pain. It was all coming from the dying soul, now aware of the fact I could sense it and trying to grasp at my heart. Cold broke over me as I realized all the disaster that was now to come by this one unexpected death. In an instant, I knew I had to counter it or risk plunging the world into more trouble than was already promised. 

With a sigh, I closed my eyes and reached out toward the fading soul. It was being swept away on the waves of death, dragged by a riptide of eternity. I stretched my power as far as I could, and just in time. Our consciousnesses barely brushed, but the other entity caught mine and held on. Slowly I pulled back to my usual state, where I stumbled backwards against the carved stone, drained by the exertion. I waited, and a few moments later, a bright light gleamed on the floor in front of me. It stretched out in a humanoid form, and to my surprise, became a young woman.

She lay motionless on the stone, her eyes closed and her hands folded on her chest. I watched her warily, but she did not move. This was the cause of all the chaos to come? After a full minute, I approached her warily and put two fingers on the side of her neck. At first I thought there was no pulse, but after a moment I found it. It was very faint and slow, but definitely there. 

"Where…?" Her soft voice startled me as she revived. She was looking around, completely disoriented. "Who…?"

"What is your name?" I asked gently, hoping to learn why I had sensed her near passing.

She gazed at me blankly and didn't respond. 

"Do you understand me?"

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes still vacant.

"Where are you from?"

She was silent.

"How did you die?"

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"How did you die?" I knew it was personal to ask, but I had to know. If I didn't, there was no way I could even hope to counter what was coming. 

"I…died?"

I nodded slowly. "Yes…"

She kept looking around, more confused than ever. 

With a sigh, I slipped the Sennen ankh from around my neck and placed it against her forehead. I'd have to find the answers on my own.

The inside of her mind surprised me. It was an expanse of pale color, not varied enough to be called pastels. The surface was pocked with pits where foundations had once lain. Now there was nothing. All structures had been completely wiped away. I cursed inwardly; I had been hoping for some answers in her memories. I had snatched her from death too late, and she no longer owned any recollection of her past. Her consciousness stood in the middle of the nothingness, staring blankly ahead. I did not bother speaking to it; it would be of no help to me in my search. Not to be completely discouraged, I knelt in the dust-like sediment that covered the ground and began to sift through it. 

I found tiny fragments of memory when I looked carefully. They were in colors I had never seen before, some with markings and some without. There weren't many, of course, but I found just enough to be able to read her name. Recollections are not easy to decipher, but I had had more than a century of practice. With a sigh, I dropped the fragments to the ground and returned to my body.

Her blue eyes focused in on me as I stepped back. "Your name is Cindia," I told her gently.

She was silent for a moment. "Cindia what?"

"I…I don't know."

She nodded in acceptance, but I saw no dawn of recognition on her face. I had hoped the answer to one question might lead to lost memories, but it hadn't worked. I rose, realizing with slight annoyance that I was now stuck with this soul. I could not send her back on her way to Duat in case she should come upon some memories. Besides, I had found nothing impure within her heart and thus had to treat her kindly. Even more, I had sensed a gentle, compassionate soul within her, even if it was confused at the moment. 

I called for my servants to bring her clothes and find her a room in which to stay. They brought her simple, comfortable white linen to replace her queer western-style dress. I had not let them give her black, as that was what they wore. I was determined to treat her as a guest and not a slave, at least for the time being. I had also made up my mind to find out where she had come from and why it mattered so much. 

She adapted quickly to her new life, falling easily into our routine. She even willingly helped to sweep and scrub floors, though her hands had been soft and unworked when she arrived. There was a silent power in her, but it was a strength of gentleness instead of force. She laughed easily, lighting up her face. She had accepted the fact that she had been dead with only a little confusion. 

I realized that she would probably never be completely alive again, but I hadn't the heart to tell her that. She seemed so vivacious that even I had a hard time believing that. I also was not fully animate, having been sustained by ancient magic for a few centuries. I wondered hopefully if she too would age as slowly; she was the closest I had found to a kindred spirit.

Three weeks went by and she still showed no signs of recovering her memories. And then the strangest thing happened. I was walking down a hallway when I heard her voice. 

"Shadi…"

I turned to look at her. She was paler than usual, her eyes dull, her golden hair hanging limply. 

"Shadi, he's coming. He's looking for me, drawn towards this place."

"Who?"

She put a hand over her heart. "The desires of fate will be satiated. He moves ever closer, seeking, guided by his wounded soul. He must not… He wants me… I miss him." She covered her face with her hands and sank trembling to the ground. 

"Cindia!" I moved towards her, praying silently that she would not suddenly be snatched back to Duat, and she raised her head. 

"What happened?" she asked vaguely.

"You said someone's coming. Who are you talking about?"

She brushed a hand over her eyes. "I…don't remember…"

With a sigh, I once again slipped the ankh from around my neck and touched it to her forehead. I wanted to see how this new development had affected her mind. It really wasn't much different from what I had seen before, but something had uncovered a large trapdoor in the ground. It was locked or stuck fast, of course, but it sparked a hope within me. She had a few memories left, even if I could not have access to them quite yet. 

Cindia had spoken of one approaching, a statement I had wanted to ponder, but we were interrupted by one of my servants. "Shadi-sama," he gasped out as I returned to the physical world, "someone has stolen the ring!"

"What?"

He bowed humbly. "He entered and fled with the Sennen ring. Shall we pursue him?"

"Immediately. I shall accompany you. The wretched fool does not know what he has 

stumbled upon."

We set out, gliding up and down the streets, hunting the prey. Weaving between the shop tents that lined the streets, we caught sight of him, a pitifully scrawny figure running as fast as he could. The servants raced after him, their eyes gleaming coldly at the promise of watching another's pain. The thief too made haste, but had the misfortune to trip and fall heavily at the feet of a foreigner. Instead of immediately scrambling upright, the quarry stopped and gazed up at the man's face. When my servants caught him a moment later, he was still only getting to his feet. 

Much to my surprise, the foreigner intervened. "Wait," he said suddenly, "don't hurt him."

My servants stopped and stood in uneasy silence, unsure of what to do.

"I'll pay you to let him go," the young man persisted, his brown eyes sincerely empathetic. To my surprise, I read a deep sorrow beneath everything else, though not for the thief.

One of the men looked to me, and I shook my head slightly. They dragged the unfortunate soul away as I stepped forward to face the foreigner. Everything was suddenly falling into place. This was the one Cindia had spoken of. "You have come," I started slowly, my eyes studying him as I put everything together, "with a broken heart. You are seeking that which will relieve your pain."

His eyes widened beneath the brim of his hat, his face framed by lavender hair. "How…?"

I turned away to follow my servants. "Go back, foreigner. I cannot help you." I knew he wanted Cindia, and even more that I could never give her up. She was dead, an event that had broken any bond even past the point of marriage. She did not remember him, but she knew me. She was as likely to die as she was to live; he would suffer the grief all over again. 

"Wait!" he called out stepping forward. The spurt of hope that sprang from his soul was almost painful to sense. I ignored him and continued on. I heard his footsteps behind me. _Go back,_ I thought, willing him to turn around. _There is nothing for you here. Go back, you cannot have her now._

Much to my relief, I heard his footsteps fade behind me as I walked. Descending back to my underground realm, I found my servants waiting with the miserable thief. They had already returned the ring to its place. Solemnly, I approached, watching the man tremble. I decided to let the ring itself test him and try if it would accept him. He had seen too much of our lives and home to be allowed to leave without becoming one of us. With a slight smile, I hung the item around his thin neck.

He sat there for a moment, perplexed. I believe that for a moment he thought I was _giving _it to him. I could sense the tomb robber's soul inside the item, scrutinizing the man's very being. I thought the thief might even have a chance, what with him having a similar profession to the occupant of the ring. 

I was wrong. 

Suddenly I sensed rejection from the item, and the thing took on a will of its own. The spikes writhed and then plunged themselves into him. I sensed the tomb robber laughing in a blood-craze as he annihilated his victim. Even I could not help stepping back in revulsion as fire consumed the unfortunate, enveloping him and pouring out of his mouth and eyes. It was over in a moment as the charred corpse fell to the ground. Suppressing a wave of disgust, I took back the ring and returned it to its place. 

A sudden scuffle broke out at the top of the stairs leading to the outside world. I sighed in despair. I had wanted some peace to tell Cindia that I had found the one who was looking for her. I wanted to reassure her that I had turned him away, and that he wouldn't come ba-

My thought broke off abruptly when I saw two of my servants drag a figure down the stairs. It was the foreigner. 

I frowned at him, watching as he quailed under my gaze. "I told you to go back. You did not listen to me," I said.

A fear filled his eyes. "Let me go," he pleaded.

I shook my head slightly. "No. The only way to leave here is as the possessor of a Sennen item."

"I won't tell! I promise! Let me go!"

I plucked the Sennen eye from its stone socket on the wall. "No. We'll have you try the eye first."

"The eye?"

"Yes, the Sennen eye. If it accepts you, you will be allowed what you desire."

"What…I desire?"

"Yes, you will see the one you lost."

He bowed his head. "Cindia…" 

"Or you will die!"

I stepped back to watch as the unfortunate received the Sennen eye. I almost felt pity as the cold steel dug out the softness of his real eye, and rough hands pushed in hard metal to replace it. I watched him start back and cry out as his hands covered the bleeding. I waited, we all did, to see if he would be accepted. Sudden footsteps behind me made me turn, but a brilliant white light half-blinded me. I saw Cindia illuminated in the doorway, her golden hair flowing like liquid. She had changed into the dress she wore when she arrived, and her eyes were only on the foreigner.

As if in a dream, she seemed to float forward, called by the accepting item, her arms stretched out to him. "Pegasus…" I heard her whisper.

He stared, his hand slipping from his new eye and sliding in the blood on his cheek. "Cindia?" Suddenly he thrust his arms out toward her in answer, a sort of disbelieving joy lighting up his face. "Cindia!"

I sensed the trapdoor in her mind spring open and knew the memories were pouring out. I watched the two come together, saw him hold her close. 

I wanted to turn away from the sight. 

And then she turned and looked at me, he blue eyes full of conflict. Slowly, she raised her head and kissed the foreigner's forehead, ignoring the blood. "I'm sorry," she whispered softly, and pulled away. "Goodbye." In an instant, she was gone, vanished into the depths of my dwelling. The man she had called Pegasus was left holding empty air, a tear running from his remaining good eye. 

He fell to his knees before me, his head bowed. "Cindia…Cindia…" his voice echoed itself, repeating her name over and over again. When he raised his head, though, there was a new light in his eye. It was something like determination, but a little more. He stood straight, not trembling at all. "There is a way," he murmured to no one in particular. "I can bring her back," he said softly to me, a glimmer of hope in his brown eye. With that, he slowly turned toward the stairs and left. Two of the servants moved to stop him, but I waved them back. He would not betray us; he was one of us.

As soon as the foreigner was gone, I hurried through the cavern-like dwelling I called home. I found Cindia in her room, the door open. She had changed back into the clothes I had provided for her. She had been crying, I could tell, but she faced me with dry eyes. "Please," she said softly, touching the ankh around my neck, "there is something I want to show you."

Despite my attempt to keep a straight face, I could not help the surprise the crossed my face.

"Yes," she said with a sad smile. "I have known for a long time that you can walk through my mind with that. Will you?"

Slowly, I raised it toward her. She closed her eyes, waiting for the end to touch her forehead. She was waiting for me within her mind, standing by the open trapdoor. Memories lay scattered about her feet. "Why did you leave him?" I asked quietly, remembering how she had slipped from Pegasus's arms.

She did not seem to have heard my question as she knelt and picked up a memory. "This is when I first met him," she said softly, showing it to me. "We were little children, and it was at a dinner party. The friendship started there." She walked over to the trapdoor and dropped in the memory.

She picked up another. "This is the first time he drew me. It was nothing more than a simple charcoal sketch, but I thought it was the most amazing thing in the world." Her eyes were brimming as that memory followed the first. I caught her wrist as she reached for the next one. 

"Don't, Cindia."

She looked at me. "Why not? He's my past, not my present. Death separated us, so I can't go back to him; I'm not of his world anymore. And since I came back I have given my heart to another. Now it hurts to…remember him…" Her voice faded on the last words, and she bowed her head, her hair obscuring her face.

I let go of her wrist, and she merely dropped it to the ground. Slowly, I picked up another memory. "But to lose all memories of him completely?"

"What else can I do?" she asked hopelessly. "I vowed to be his till death did us part. Death must have heard it as a challenge, because it was only a matter of weeks before I fell ill. See?" She held up a fragmented memory of worried faces and voices, soft sheets, a burning fever, and bitter medicines. 

I looked at the memory in my own hands. It was of the two as children, building with wooden blocks and laughing. "Perhaps," I ventured, "perhaps you could remember him as a friend instead of a husband. I do not think he deserves to be forgotten, though."

She took the memory from me and looked at it, a solitary tear streaming away and down her face. "I wonder how he'll cope," she said softly.

I had no answer for her. I could already sense the events falling into place. The disasters stemming from her death were just beginning. I caught flashes of the future, a gathering of powers unmatched since ancient times. Faces flashed before me, the pharaoh, an ex-tomb robber, even Pegasus himself. The struggle for domination was only beginning. Pegasus would want the power to try and resurrect his lost love, deceived as he was by the glimpse he had caught of her as the Sennen eye accepted him. The item had gone out into the world, leaving everything in a delicate equilibrium. If it by any means left his possession, everything could easily plunge into disaster. All because of her…

"As a friend, then," she agreed softly, gazing at another childhood memory. Then, gently, she placed it in one of the pits where there had once been foundations. I watched as it formed slowly but surely into a building, fitting perfectly into the space. "We are built by our memories," she said quietly.

We spent the rest of the afternoon like that, solemnly sorting. I thought she might want to be alone to deal with her past, but she wouldn't let me leave. When she had finished, her mind looked like a town, full of small buildings, each holding its own memory. 

To my surprise, she didn't leave right away, but took me by the hand. "There's something else I wanted to show you," she said, leading me down the avenues. 

We came to a building that was newer than the rest, its Egyptian columns gleaming. I felt her rest her head on my shoulder, her hand warm in mine. "This one," she whispered, "we built together."

Owari


End file.
